


Idunn's Apple Pie

by AndrewJTalon



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Comics)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Hela (Marvel), Canon Blending, Crack Relationships, Domestic Avengers, Domestic Bliss, Draugr, F/M, Fluffy Ending, Grandpa Loki, Happily Married, Happy Family, Hydra (Marvel), I Ship It, Johann Schmidt has a Bad Day, Loki (Marvel) Does What He Wants, Long-Term Relationship(s), Loss of Limbs, One Big Happy Family, Protective Steve Rogers, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Romance, Secret Marriage, Secret Relationship, Ship Manifesto, Sleeping Beauty Elements, Steve Rogers Feels, Tony Stark Cannot Even, Troll Loki (Marvel), Uncle Bucky Barnes, Uncle Thor (Marvel), Undead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 17:14:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22467016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndrewJTalon/pseuds/AndrewJTalon
Summary: The Red Skull has tracked down not just Steve Rogers' home, but his new wife and child. He plans to take his revenge... Without considering just what kind of woman it takes to make Captain America settle down. One thing's for sure: She's not ordinary...Crack pairing that just kind of works for me. Please read and review!
Relationships: Hela (Marvel)/Steve Rogers
Comments: 3
Kudos: 35





	1. Chapter 1

\- - -

It was a quaint little Clapboard Federal home in Brooklyn, in the neighborhood of Gravesend. Well kept, well maintained, with a charming flower garden in the front and several scattered children's toys in the back. It was painted blue and an almost golden amber, the very picture of classic Americana.

It figured that his nemesis would choose such a humble, cliched dwelling. It had been well hidden, of course, but Johann Schmidt, the Red Skull, had not survived the passage of time and numerous battles with superheroes, villains and horrors beyond both on sheer luck.

Still, he was cautious. He had thoroughly researched the inhabitants, and he knew the Captain. And he knew better than to risk a direct confrontation on the Captain's home turf. So Schmidt had waited until he was sure the Avengers were gone. Off in space on an important mission, they would return too late.

His HYDRA troops, under cloak of a holographic projector, stormed the house. They smashed through the windows, the doors, and came up through the basement window wells. When they radioed it was secure, he entered. He stepped on the fallen pictures and knick knacks, making an ominous crunching noise as he walked unhurried through the entrance hall.

He entered the living room, where at last he laid eyes on the bride of the Captain... And his son. The woman was quite beautiful-Pale, tall, with long black hair and green eyes. She was dressed in a simple green house dress with a white apron over it. She was built fit, at least-Strong, but with soft womanly curves and long legs. Johann looked her up and down. She was sitting on a comfortable looking couch, guns of his mercenaries pointed at her head, and her young, two year old son whimpering in her lap.

She met his eyes unflinchingly, as he spoke.

"I can't say I disapprove of the good Captain's taste," he said. "Mrs. Rogers, I presume?" He reached out to hold her chin between his gloved fingers. "You must be quite the woman to tie him down. He usually preferred blondes in the past."

Mrs. Rogers didn't even flinch, even as her son cried softly. She eyed the Red Skull with an almost bored expression. Johann laughed.

"So calm. Your fake name was very entertaining, as was your SHIELD file. An intelligence analyst from Norway turned mere housewife? Let me guess: Field agent? Assassin? A counterpart to Romanova?"

"Are you finished yet? My husband will be home soon and I still have to prepare dinner," she finally spoke. She glared as she stroked her son's back, keeping him calm. "As well as clean up this mess."

The Red Skull laughed. "You have spirit! And courage! But I'm afraid my dear that you are out of luck. The good captain is not returning soon, and despite your courage..." he gave a sickly grin, promising nothing but agony, "you have no idea who I am."

The woman laughed. She grinned back at him, and Johann, in shock, almost stumbled back. Her eyes, once gentle and warm, were now filled with nothing but death and horror.

"And you," she said slowly, "my dear, dear Johann, have no idea who I am."

In the blink of an eye, the four armored soldiers with guns pointed at her head had jagged, black swords jammed through their throats. They fell, dead or dying with horrific wet gurgles, onto the floor. The Red Skull took a step back, and drew his own gun-A gun knocked out of his hand by another jagged sword that sliced his hand open. He cried out and held his hand, looking back up in fear.

The woman has stood up, and given her sniffling son to a ragged skeleton wearing ancient Norse armor. The skeleton patted the infant on the back as green flames erupted around the woman, black, skintight armor replacing her civilian clothing. A double horned mask slid over her glowing eyes as two more black swords appeared in her hands.

"Would you like me to show you?" Hela, Asgardian Queen of the Dead, asked with a savage grin.

\- - -

Steve Rogers was relieved beyond words when he saw his house was intact. He rushed in, shield at the ready, SHIELD agents parting for him. He saw his wife, calmly checking on the oven in the kitchen. He grinned.

"Hela!"

Hela turned from the oven and smiled like the sun coming out. "STEVE!"

"I heard-Oof!" He caught her as she lunged for him, and returned her feverish kiss. He broke it, as she began babbling questions.

"Are you all right? How was the mission?"

"Me?! I'm fine! But what about you? And Bucky-?"

"I'm fine, dear, really," Hela said, smiling warmly. Despite her Asgardian powers, he still worried for her. "And Bucky is fine. He's sleeping. Poor dear was over excited, that's all."

Captain America sighed in relief, and hugged his wife tightly. She returned it, nuzzling him with her own happy sigh.

"And Skull?" He asked. Hela gave him a smile.

"I didn't kill him, if you're curious," she said. She rolled her eyes. "Like he's worthy of being killed by me. His mercenaries were only slightly more worthy. And I know you don't like it, so I only killed the ones directly threatening our son. The rest I just knocked out."

As a soldier himself, he could understand that. Given her nature, that she went that far for him spoke volumes. "Still, where is he?"

Hela pointed at the trashcans out back. One was shaking, like someone was trying to get out. "Where trash belongs," she said.

Steve frowned. "I didn't think he could fit in there."

Hela sighed. "I tried! But I finally had to cut off his arms and legs to do it." At Steve's look, she shrugged. 'What? I used the spells of preservation. They can just stick them back on him later."

Hela may not have shared many of his principles but he could not fault her logic. And the safety of his family did ultimately take precedence. She smiled back lovingly, and hugged him.

"Now. Let it go. You triumphed today, and so did I. We can have a wonderful dinner, just the two of us..." She looked annoyed. "As soon as you order your SHIELD minions to leave."

"Specialists," Steve corrected dryly. Hela snorted.

"It's all the same to me."

\- - -

The day had started so promising for Johann Schmidt. And now, here he was, his limbs cut off, reduced to a stump of a man... In a garbage can.

It was not as horrifying as Magneto burying him alive but it was far more humiliating.

The lid of the garbage can was lifted away. He was dumped out onto the pavement. He fell on his face, and then was lifted up by his head. He gasped in anger and surprise at the smiling man holding him up.

Or rather, god.

"Loki?!"

"Hey Skull. You seem to have lost some weight," the trickster laughed.

"I-I asked you-You told me where Rogers was but didn't tell me he'd married-" Red Skull's eyes went wide as Loki's own went cold. The God of Mischief was still smiling though.

That made it infinitely worse.

"That he'd married my daughter?" Loki asked. "Now why ever would I leave that bit out?"

"What's the scheme?! Use Rogers to take over the Nine Realms?!" Schmidt demanded. "I am not your pawn!"

Loki snorted. "It is flattering that you think I could manage something like that, but no. My little girl got a crush on the man who refused to die... And who managed to knock up Death herself." He chuckled. "I will admit, it's not the most obvious pairing for either of them... But they are happy. And that is a magic I don't have. They're family now, and I have certain... Obligations."

He shrugged.

"That and I can't very well let Thor be a better grand uncle than I am a grandfather can I?"

"I'll destroy you for this, Loki!" Johann snarled. "When I get out of here-!"

"What are you going to do, bite my legs off?" Loki asked mockingly. "Oh, before I go..."

He pulled out a cellphone, and snapped a few pictures of the snarling, limbless Nazi. "And... Sent! Ooh! Already trending!"

"LOKI YOU-!" The rest of Johann's admittedly inventive German cursing was cut off by Loki unceremoniously dumping him back into the trash can-head first-and shutting the lid. He headed off, whistling a little tune.

He had a grandson to check up on, after all. Best not to keep him waiting.

\- - -


	2. Chapter 2

\- - -

Rarely did Hela stare into the Ethereal plane. Deaths happened, and their souls came one way or another. As of late, fewer and fewer had come into her realm. Over the centuries, fewer souls from Midgard even crossed into her path. So she had turned her attention to other realms, taking in their dead and managing their afterlives as best she could. It was her duty, after all.

A long, lonely duty.

She was not ignorant of the happenings on Midgard though: They had seen more bloodshed and more death than any other time in their history. A few souls still came her way, and she could learn a bit from them. She shook her head mentally as she navigated the streams of fate and the layers between the universes with ease.

So much progress. So much technology. So many people now. Midgard had come a long away.

No wonder the Aesir had left.

She about about to return to Nifelheim, to brood in silence on the changing situation on Midgard, when something changed in the ethereal plane. She focused her will, far across the boundaries between realms... Until at last, she opened her eyes.

She was on a snowy, windblown tundra, far from any civilization. A blizzard was rushing over the land, bathing it all in bleak darkness. She turned and regarded the sparse ruins, partially buried in the ice. She could make out stonework with runes carved into them, and a few scattered idols. It was one of her shrines-Ancient, abandoned for centuries, but still mostly intact. The runes still held power, and they had alerted her of something changing.

She turned her attention to the source of the disturbance: A massive airplane, shaped like one giant wing, sinking through the ice that covered the small bay that had once let the Norsemen live here. Some distance away on the beach, caught in the ice, a man was slowly freezing. Hela walked, her astral self covering the distance easily. She knelt over the man, and examined him carefully.

He was tall and well built, a warrior in his prime. His outfit was strange-Some kind of lightweight, fabric-like armor, covering him head to toe. He bore a gun on his belt, as well as other tools. He wore a cap that covered his eyes, and a star over his chest. And a shield of an unusual metal-Held close to him in his strong arms.

His heart was slowing, his breath reduced to nothing. His mind was surging with emotions, his soul raging, mournful, and yet... Satisfied. Satisfied with the end of the contents of the aircraft already slipping down into the deep. His mind was sharp, even as it slowed into a dream like state. And from his mind, she could see flashes of the man he was...

"I don't want to kill anyone. I don't like bullies. I don't care where they're from."

"What are you ladies waiting for, Christmas?!"

"I can do this all day..."

"I am not afraid to die this day because what we do here is necessary. Look at me. I'm just a man, but I believe that one man - one man with enough conviction - that one man can win a war. Give that man a group of soldiers with the same conviction, and you can change the world. You fellas know where I can find some soldiers like that?"

"I'm just a kid from Brooklyn..."

"Logan..."

"Bucky..."

"Peggy..."

"Mama..."

Hela sighed mentally. He was... A true warrior. Noble and daring, kind and intelligent.

The kind of soul that would never end up in her realm. Still, she waited for him to pass. It had been so long since she'd done anything like this herself.

She waited... And waited... And waited, for long hours. The night turned into day, yet the storm would not pass. Still, his soul remained, though his body had slowed. His heartbeat was at one a minute, his brain was dreaming. The cold did not stop, and the ice kept building, and any normal mortal would be long dead...

Yet... He was still alive. What strength! What fortitude!

Hela knelt down and laid her ethereal hand on his head through the ice. This more direct connection let her cast a dreamwalking spell, and soon she was within his mind.

She was assaulted by the honks of horns, the loud noise of thousands of people chatting, and she stumbled into a street. She felt a man's arms wrap around her waist, and she was yanked out of the way of some metal chariot that blared angrily as it drove past. The man turned her around and smiled, and Hela felt blood rush to her cheeks for the first time in... Ever.

It may have been a mere astral projection, but it felt so real.

"Hey! You gotta be careful around here," he said kindly. He set her down, his blonde hair shining in the sunlight. She brushed off the dress she wore in the dream-the spell allowed her to blend in with the dream, so she appeared as a mortal woman.

"I... Thank you," she said. The man kept smiling.

"So... Going to the Dodgers game?" He asked. Hela looked at all the people walking past them-All with pennants or flags or tickets. She shrugged.

"I... Suppose I am," she said. "I'm not very familiar with the Dodgers-"

"From Norway, right?" He guessed. "The accent-Sounds like some of the resistance fighters I fought with."

"Ah, yes," Hela said with a nod. "Yes! Norway!"

"Well, come on," he said with a grin. "Let me show you the great American past-time." He held out his hand to her. "I'm Steve. Steve Rogers. What's your name?"

She hesitated. This was only a dream. He couldn't possibly know she was real. He wouldn't just extend such courtesy, and yet...

She reached out and took his hand, smiling softly.

"Hela," she said. "Hela... Lokidottir."

\- - -

She came again, and again, and again, visiting him whenever she could. Sliding into his dreams as they went through his life. She saw the tragedy of his mother being beaten by his father, and felt the pain and anguish and anger. She saw Steve's mother rise up again, and again, no matter how much it hurt. She saw how Steve had resolved to be just like her, and to never stay down.

She saw his childhood. So many bullies, so much pain. She saw him meet Bucky, and how good of friends they both were-More than brothers. Days of riding trains and playing baseball and drawing on any surface they could find. She saw his art college education, his love of culture and of literature. She saw the war.

So much bloodshed, but so much courage. So much kindness. So much loss. So many friends...

And finally, she saw the plane crash. The supposed end of the Red Skull before that. The regrets he bore that he tried not to let destroy him. And his dreams of the future, the hope of peace and enjoying it.

Those were the dreams she loved the most, because Steve seemed happiest there. She loved his smiles, his laughter. The social faux pas and brief bits of foolishness that he displayed, the trouble he had dancing, the way his eyes would light up over a childish radio show or music he loved. The obsession with baseball and how much he put into it, a strange hobby that filled him with contentment. The tears he shed when no one was looking, that she so wanted to wipe away. To kiss away.

Hela saw it all. She wanted to see more, so much more. She couldn't though, not while he was frozen in the ice. Not while his story was stopped.

So Hela took a rare physical trip to the base of Yggdrasil itself, between the roots of the mighty tree of reality. She walked the holy soil, offered the respect deserved to the gatekeepers, and strode into the domain of the Norns.

As usual, the three sisters were at work: Urd with her new obsession from the mortal world, television. Verthdandi, with her love of baking. And Skuld, who had taken up tinkering. All three stood and bowed the moment she entered, a courtesy she appreciated.

"Norns, I ask thee for information," she began, "on the mortal Steve Rogers of Midgard... Also known as Captain America."

Urd of course was the first one to break with the practices of respect around royalty, grinning like a cat that had gotten its prey. "Oh? Interested in the frozen champion, are we? ... My Queen," she quickly added at Hela's glare.

"Oh, it's wonderful!" Verthdandi said with a smile, "it's simply wonderful! One day, he will be found by other heroes! He will be returned to a world that needs him, and he will become one of the greatest heroes of all the Realms! That's what Skuld showed me!"

Hela found herself fighting a smile. "I see," she said. She looked over at Skuld. "And when he dies?"

Skuld smiled. "As with any great hero, he will either ascend to Heaven when he dies, or go to Valhalla," she said.

"Then," Hela said slowly, "there is no chance of him coming to Nifelheim then?"

Skuld frowned, confused. "What? Of course not! Why would he?"

"Check again, Skuld," Verthdandi said gently. "Maybe there's a possibility he will."

"For a lovelorn queen," Urd added. Hela didn't bother with a glare this time-She fired off a sword that took a few locks of silver hair from the head of the eldest Norn. "Shutting up now," the chastened Norn of the Past said, hiding behind her TV.

Skuld examined the threads of fate carefully, each one with a meticulous use of her tools and odd lenses. Microscopes, Hela recalled the term. The youngest Norn went over and over the threads, humming and grunting softly as she studied the possibilities of the future.

Hela tried to hide her impatience, but at last could not take it any longer.

"Well?" She demanded.

Skuld looked up, nervous, but sure. She shook her head.

"No," she said. "Not a chance. Not even within the most remote possibility."

There was a deep, hard silence.

"... I see," Hela said softly. Verthdandi moved to make her apologies, but Hela held up her hand. "It was... Idle curiosity, nothing more," she said. She turned and strode out of the Norn sanctuary. She returned to the Bifrost, and went back down to Nifelheim. Deep into her dark palace, underneath the ever twilight sky.

It was only then, in her private chambers, that she allowed any tears to fall.

\- - -

She visited him one last time. The night before he was to be rescued. She entered the dream, and assumed the form of the woman he'd loved-That he'd never stopped loving. The scene became that of a wedding suite, and she was being held from behind by Steve-Her new husband. She sighed as she leaned against him, and he smiled lovingly back at her in the mirror.

"Our wedding day," she said with a happy smile. Steve's joy was nearly effervescent. He turned her around to cup her cheek, and bent down to kiss her lovingly. He held her like a desperate man clinging to a bit of floating debris in a tossing and turning sea. She returned the embrace, full of all the love she could muster.

More love than she ever thought herself capable of feeling.

"It feels... Like it was all worth it," Steve said softly, breaking the the kiss and gazing deeply into her eyes. "Every bit of pain along the road... All of it. For this moment."

"Now, we can make enough happy moments forever," Hela replied breathlessly. She hugged him again, kissed him again, desperate for his love.

"Mmm... After everything we've been through together? This feels... Perfect," he said. He hugged her tightly, resting his head atop hers. Hela sighed, and snuggled into his warmth.

"I love you, Steve," she said, fully and honestly. He tilted her head back up, eyes gazing into hers.

"And I love you... Peggy."

His happy smile... His earnest yearning... It all sent a deep chill through the goddess of death. One deeper and colder than the furthest depths of Nifelheim. She looked at the mirror, which reflected her true self. Steve saw the illusion, his fantasy made real... And yet... To deceive him...

You could have him anyway, Hela's mind thought. He's only a mortal! You have suffered loneliness, an eternity of it! Far beyond what he could fathom! Why can't you have your fun? Why can't you enjoy yourself?!

Because a strong man, who has known power all his life, will lose respect for that power. But a weak man knows the value of strength, and knows compassion...

She had been strong all her life. She had so much power... And here she was, abusing it. Not respecting it.

Not respecting him.

Hela shut here eyes tightly. She sucked in a deep breath. She gently pushed Steve away. She looked back at him, determined in the face of his confusion.

"Steve," she said. "You're going to wake up, and this will have all been a dream," she said softly.

Steve blinked. "What are you talking about?"

"You probably won't remember most of this, if you remember anything at all," Hela said, tears now bubbling at the corners of her eyes. "But I want you to know... That for me, the dream wasn't an illusion. It was real. You are real!" She was in her true form now, and Steve stared in shock. "You've made me feel things that no mortal ever has before! That-That no one ever has before! And that is why I can't do this to you! And I'm so sorry... Your future will be full of pain, and loss and battles. You will lose so much! But you will gain so much and I..." She burst into tears, "I don't want to lose you! But I have to!"

"I... I don't understand," Steve said. Hela continued to cry, but managed a smile as she did so.

"It's all right," she sobbed, even as he hugged her tightly. "It's all right... You'll be all right..."

"But," he began, pushing her chin up to look in her eyes again, "will you?"

She didn't have an answer for that. Before she could even try to come up with one... The dream ended.

\- - -

Steve Rogers was being flown away, in the Avenger's Quinjet. He was already waking up, and would soon be thrust into a modern world he didn't fully understand, but nevertheless one he would fight for. Far away from the icy wastes in the land called Greenland.

Far below, Hela watched the jet shrink into the distance, and then vanish entirely. Her tears had stopped. All that was left was the cold, stoic face of her mask.

She turned away, and left for Nifelheim. Back to her eternal vigilance over the land of the dead.

Back to a land devoid of dreams.

\- - -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next part is coming. So don't think this is just a dream.


	3. Chapter 3

\- - -

Before, Hela had only counted the mortal years in large groups. It mattered little in the grand scheme of her life. The years changed, the mortal world changed... And she didn't. Death never did, and never would.

Yet now, every year that Steve was awake and among the living seemed to drag on and on. Like she was acutely aware of the ticking clock of the universe, as time slowly inched by. Perhaps it was because of all the changes he and his Avengers caused. All the new threats to Midgard and other parts of the realm that he and the Earth's Mightiest Heroes rose to challenge. Even her own father, Loki, became involved in their escapades-All part of his ambitions to conquer Asgard itself.

He'd even approached her for her help, in person. Standing before her throne with an almost fatherly smile. It had fooled her in the past.

"Hela, my dear, you look so deathly pale. Getting enough sun?"

It no longer did. Her wolf, Garm, snarled at Loki from beside her throne. She didn't rise from it: Merely sitting and regarding her father with a cool expression.

"What do you want, Father?" She asked, as cold and icy as an ice giant's breath. Loki looked hurt.

"Such a chilly reception for your beloved father! Whatever have I done to offend you so?"

"The list would go on forever," Hela stated dryly. 'Get to the point, before I make you a permanent resident."

Loki smirked, and spread out his hands. "You've aware of Thor's little mortal friends, yes? The 'Avengers'? They represent an obstacle to my plans for Asgard."

"I fail to see how this concerns me," Hela replied, reaching out to stroke Garm's fur. The big wolf growled at Loki, but enjoyed the caress of his mistress. Loki shook his head.

"It very much does, because when I become the new King of the Realms, I shall remember those who aided me. My unfeeling, ungrateful daughter among them, despite her poor manners," the God of Mischief replied with a wink. Hela resisted the very unqueenly urge to roll her eyes.

"And how would this differ from all the other times you've attempted to overthrow Asgard, and failed? Miserably?" Hela shot back. Loki's smile grew just a bit wider, his teeth shining like the glint of light off of a knife.

Just before it went into your back.

"Because I can give you what you want, dear child," he said kindly. Hela stared back, unmoved.

"You have no idea what I want," she replied evenly. Loki snapped his fingers, and the image of herself and Steve riding a roller coaster at Coney Island appeared, magically outlined by frost and snowflake. Hela's hand paused in its stroking of Garm, though she wasn't foolish enough to express any other emotion.

"If the Avengers are scattered across the Nine Realms, they will not be a threat to me," Loki said, sweeping his arm across the barren platform in an almost magnanimous gesture, "and if the good Captain Rogers ends up in your realm, well...?" He grinned almost fondly at her. "He'd be yours. Hang fate, hang the Norns-Which I might do anyway! He'd be yours."

Hela straightened up a bit in her throne. "And in exchange? What do you want?" She asked. Loki shrugged, his mouth making a mockery of a surprised "oh?".

"What would I want? Why, your support and recognition! ... When the time comes, of course," Loki said. "You see, I deliver on my promise first in a tangible way, and you only need to promise me a favor in the future."

"A vague promise," Hela stated. Loki again smirked.

"Really. If all it takes is one mortal to make my little girl happy and to let me conquer the Nine Realms, why make it more complicated by betrayal? It's nothing more than a simple transaction, between father and daughter." Loki grinned his most charmingly, and held out his hand. "So what do you say? Your true love, for helping out dear old dad?"

Hela knew it was too good to be true. She knew Loki would betray her the moment it became convenient for him. He already had the plan in mind, the wheels turning behind that gracious smile.

Yet she hadn't survived this long by ignoring the game. To ignore it would kill you. Better to play it, but to win on your terms.

Loki thought he was using her? Fine. She'd use him right back. Because she knew her mortal was the key to defeating him.

She slowly rose, and took her father's hand. She shook it.

"I say, yes."

\- - -

It was not long after that she could sense him. She could never forget the feel of his soul, burning brightly in the dark abyss between life and death. It made her tremble, from the core of her soul to the outer extremities of her body.

He wandered Nifelheim in front of her throne, and she knew what he saw: The images of his lost comrades, manifested from his memories. He felt angered and determined, so she lifted the magical fog from his eyes. It let her see him again, and she resisted her blush and the urge to bite her lower lip.

He still looked just as good as the day he saw him. Well, better, now that he was up and about in his modern armored suit.

"They are shadows of what once was," she said, letting her voice echo around him. He locked eyes on her... And there wasn't even a hint of recognition as he glared at her. "You are surrounded, enveloped in the scent of death, Steve Rogers."

"And who are you?" Steve demanded. It hurt a bit, but Hela was in her mask so she didn't feel the string as deeply. Right now she was Queen Hela, Goddess of the Dead. Not Hela Lokidottir, with a heart that could be harmed. As a result, her face was stony and unreadable.

"I am Hela, Queen of the Dead," she introduced herself. "Welcome to Nifelheim."

"Well thanks," Steve replied, "now mind telling me where the exit is?"

Hela shook her head. "There is no leaving Nifelheim, Steve Rogers... Unless I allow it."

Steve's eyes narrowed as he walked up the stairs to her throne. "Well then lady, you and I are going to have a problem."

She couldn't resist her smile at that. She wanted to do so much more, but it sufficed. She watched him as she sat, relaxed, in her large black throne.

"Nifelheim is nothing to fear, Steve Rogers," she said gently. "A warrior of your strength, will, and heart would do well here." She slowly rose from her throne and walked down the steps, her hips swinging just a bit more than usual. She stopped in front of him, looking directly into his eyes. "Rest now, my warrior. Your hardship is over."

She reached out and rested a hand on his chest, lingering right over the star in the center of it. He looked down at her hand, for a long moment. Just a flicker of recognition went through his eyes, and her heart surged with hope.

Then he looked back into her eyes, naked concern written all over his noble face.

"My friends need my help," he said. "I can't abandon them."

Hela slowly nodded. She expected this. It was who he was. It was why she loved him.

"I know my father will eventually betray me," she said, letting her hand linger over his star, before pulling away. "I participate in his games because they amuse me. So ruining them benefits me in turn." She shook her head. "I can send you to aid your friends... But there is a price to pay." She looked into his eyes. "What will you give up?"

Steve didn't even hesitate. "What do you want?" He demanded. Hela smiled softly.

"I will send you to aid your friends... But! If you fall in battle, your soul? Will belong to me." She again ran her fingers over his chest, and he stiffened.

"Is this the only way?" He asked. Hela nodded. Steve took a deep breath, considered it... And nodded.

"Deal," he said. "Now send me to my friends!"

He grasped her hand, and pulled it away from his chest. Her heart beat hard, as she gazed at him. She nodded, sealing the deal and their link with a flash of green magic.

"The deal is made," she said. "Good luck, Steve."

A flash of confusion washed over his face, but he was gone before he could ask. Hela allowed herself a full, happy smile.

Yes! He was his! The Norns were wrong! And her father's little ploy to try and placate her would be his undoing!

She actually laughed in joy! Yes! At last! Something was going right for her!

\- - -

It did not take long for the Avengers to rally and defeat Loki and his allies. They won the day, and soon returned back to the Avengers Mansion. Loki was imprisoned, and Hela had arrived with her undead troops to help secure Asgard for Odin. The other Asgardians may have suspected her working with Loki, but they had nothing but her father's word on that. And they wouldn't believe him. Having the reputation as the God of Lies didn't help there.

She knew she needed only to wait for Steve to be hers, but she couldn't resist. She used the magic of her contract with Steve to cross into Midgard, invisibly. She looked in on her champion, her love, in his room...

Staring in despair at his shield. Hela paused. Captain America let out a long, low sigh, and seemed... To collapse in on himself. He looked so small, as small as he did when he had first gotten the Erksine Treatment. His shoulders trembled, as the depths of his despair seemed to at last run over.

Hela again felt the deep, cold feeling that had almost froze her. The moment she'd tried to deceive Steve in his last night frozen. She trembled, the depths of his pain and anguish like heat from a fire.

This... This was not what she wanted. To cause him pain.

She took a deep breath, stilled herself, and stepped forward as the invisibility spell dropped. At the same time, she used her magic to warn the room against sound and interest. Steve's head snapped up, a stony, heroic mask slamming into place as he glared at her. She tried to keep her own mask up.

"Steve Rogers," she said, in as commanding and queenly a voice as she could manage, "you need not despair. I am Loki's daughter, but I am not a villain. I have no ambitions of using you to conquer the Nine Realms, nor to destroy your friends and loved ones."

"Then why do you want me?" Steve demanded. "You want to use me as a catspaw for your games with your father? You see us as toys. Thor is the only one of you who doesn't."

"I don't... I don't want that either," Hela said, her voice trembling. She shook her head earnestly, the horns of her crown feeling so heavy all of a sudden. "I don't see you as a toy. That... That is the last thing I want."

"Then what?" Steve demanded, rising up and towering over her. Without his mask, his eyes seemed to burn like fire, his gaze was so much more powerful. Despite her strength and abilities, she felt so very small. "What do you want with me?! To torment me in the afterlife? To use me for dark magics?!"

Her steely control broke at this, as she felt every bit of her anger and regret break through.

"I could have done that any time over the last seventy years, and I didn't!" Hela snapped back. A flash of confusion went through his eyes, but he didn't relent.

"What are you talking about?!"

Hela no longer felt like the Queen of the Dead. No, she only felt like a woman who had wronged and hurt the man she loved. If she was going to fix this, she couldn't be a goddess.

She had to be like a mortal. More specifically... Like Steve.

She reached up, and ran her fingers up from her temples to back over her head. The mask and horns slipped away, vanishing into nothing. Her long, black hair fell down her back as her face was bared. The tears her mask were contained were released, now trailing down her pale cheeks. Steve stared at her, just the hint of recognition in his blue eyes.

"For seventy years, in the ice," she began softly, "I watched over you. I went into your dreams. I saw you there, between life and death, and still fighting on. Still alive. And I... I saw how amazing you were. I had never met anyone like you before, god or mortal! I had been alone for so long, and then when I met you... I couldn't let go! I... I grew to care for you! And on the night before you were to be rescued, I... I went into your dreams to pose as the woman you loved. To use you. To have you..." She trembled again. "I couldn't do it, Steve. We gods do almost anything we please to mortals, but you... Seeing you, knowing you, watching over you-I realized it was wrong. You made me feel this. You've made me feel... So much, Steve. And I cannot be happy if you are unhappy: That's how much I care!"

She looked down at the ground, her shame and self loathing overwhelming her. It was foolish to believe that just because she could own his soul that it would make everything better. Defying fate would just make Steve miserable-What was that worth?! Nothing!

She slowly took a deep breath, and looked back at him. He was unreadable, studying her. She reached up and pressed her hand to his chest again, and her magic flared around them both. She pulled her hand away, breathing hard.

"I... I've released you," she said softly. "When you die, you will go wherever you wish." She slowly turned away. "You are free."

His hand landed on her shoulder, and she stopped. She looked back over her shoulder at him. Nothing but concern and care was in his features again-How she had wanted to see that from him in reality!

"You... Watched over me all that time?" He asked gently. Hela nodded.

"Yes," she said quietly. "I... I am sorry if you-"

"I can't say I'm glad about you going into my head," Steve said, and Hela winced, "but what I remember from when I was asleep was that... I had nothing but good dreams. Nothing but hope. You did that for me?"

Hela nodded. Steve gave her a small smile.

"Well... That sounds like something for us to talk about," he said. "Sounds like we have a lot to talk about. After all, you know more about me than I do you. It would be nice to talk to someone who can... Understand."

Hela's heart began to beat harder. That strange, alien sensation of hope again filled her breast.

"You would... Be with me? Despite what I've done?" She asked. Steve shrugged.

"You did help save us all... I think the least I can do is treat you to dinner. What do you say?"

Hela managed a small smile. She transformed her clothing into something mortal and sensible.

"I... I would like that," she said.

\- - -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And after that... Life finds a way. Or rather, death.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, it's a crack pairing based on a single scene in Avengers: Earth's Mightiest Heroes. But it was a lot of fun to write. Hope you enjoyed it.


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